A (half) day in the life of the Hinterland land steward
If you tend to spend your days sitting in an office, enjoy this reminder that there are other ways to spend your life. Here’s a beautiful account of a morning in the life of Kajedo Wanderer, FHT’s land steward.
- 8.30am – Hinterland emails over breakfast… camping enquiries and some internal FHT conversations…
It’s promising to be another fine day out there. The forecast is of mixed sunshine and rain, but our weather here is usually better than the forecast.
But the summer seems to be clearly over. Can’t wait for the spider castles glistening in the golden morning sunshine of another ‘Indian summer’.
- 8.55am – At the ‘hub’. Nobody else here. I am kind of glad about that today. While having volunteers can be nice – an opportunity to help folk connect with the land – I do cherish the quiet time alone out here.
Dappled sunshine filtering through the tall pines, two red squirrels chasing each other around a tree; they seem oblivious to me. Cute. But I fear for them in that state, as there are still too many people letting their dogs run free. And the pooches can never resist their hunting instinct. Would hate to find another torn up squirrel.
- A quick glance at the weather, and I’ve decided it’s a ‘miscellaneous’ day. Remembering a couple of saplings whose stake had rotted – I saw them prostrate when giving a tour of the land on Friday. It’s a priority to put them back upright with a new stake, before the deer find them.
I’d better bring a couple of extra stakes, as I usually find at least one more that’s about to go over.
Tree-care is one of my favourite jobs on the land. Planting is fast, but it takes years until the young trees can fend for themselves. Tubing and staking them, sometimes cutting gorse out of their tubes … I must remember to bring loppers along.
When I get to the first tree, a pleasant 5 minutes walk from the hub, I pause… Looking around, trying to listen to the land. Beyond the obvious sounds of the wind, the sea, the birds soaring above me, and distant human and dog voices – what else is calling for my attention?
And there is some movement… brown.. yes, a roe deer. Such graceful animals. I don’t move, not to spook this beautiful doe, as she grazes among the trees, constantly turning her big ears in all directions for any suspicious sound. I manage four minutes before I move, as I do have a job to do, and she bounds off and becomes invisible within seconds.
I do remember what it looked like here – before we cleared the gorse and planted the trees. Nice to imagine what it will look like when my wee girl will turn 20…
I try to ignore the well-preserved plastic dog poo bag lying by the path; a reliable source of frequent annoyance.
Lady bugs on a bit of gorse – quite a few of them. Looking closer I see them feeding on a mass of aphids. The ants seem a bit overwhelmed as they try to protect their source of sugary liquid produced by the green-flies.
And it’s a great year for unusual appearances – there is a bright pink ‘slime mould’ on a tree-stump. Must send a picture to Alan [Watson Feathersthone], who probably knows the name of this particular species. [Ed’s note: Alan did – it’s a wolf’s milk slime mould (Lycogala epidendrum)]
The earth seems to be at peace with itself, here in this area of young trees dreaming of the future.
- After four tree-stakes planted and trees upright again I move on to check the shelter area. We’re still having a few campers here. Must remember to stock up on saw dust and take away the rubbish, but not urgent enough to do it today.
Maybe I can still replace the two fence posts on the pony field – Kathryn reminded me. And check on the young trees on the Green Burial Ground on the way.
- A different environment, so when I get to the pony field, I again pause to listen first. Listen, look, smell, feel… Smell is easy here, as there is a distinct pongy aroma of horse manure in the air. ‘Gardener’s gold’. I always feel a bit sorry for the three ponies, who endure every weather without any real shelter.
I like doing fence posts. Fiddly to get the old, rotten ones out of the ground and off the wires, but satisfyingly physical to ram the new posts into the surprisingly hard ground. It must be a stretch of shingle underfoot.
Of course a few walkers pass by. Most of them are used to seeing me somewhere on the land, and there’s usually a friendly ‘hello’ or the Scottish equivalent.
- Close to lunchtime now, not enough time to start another job. So I decide to take a roundabout way back to the hub, past the ‘dells in the woods’ where we have planted quite a few oaks. Just to check if any of them are needing to exchange their baby-tube for the adolescent 1.20m plastic tube, to keep them safe from being nibbled by the deer.
I am glad now that I brought the loppers – there are brambles growing up some of them, and honeysuckle. Both of them are likely to tear down a young sapling.
- Finally, before returning to the hub & lunch, I sit in the soft, golden sunshine in the woods, leaning against the trunk of a Scots pine, and roll myself a smoke.
To not do… just to be… here, among trees and the hundred other living creatures…
It’s peaceful. In fact, this moment, here and now, is perfect.
I could not improve on it.
And the sum of the many perfect moments on the land help me counterbalance the many sad stories of our world. Both out there, seemingly in almost every corner of our planet, but also here, in our community.
So whatever the challenges life throws at me, at the end of the day the sum total is simply … gratitude.
Gratitude for the many gifts the natural world around us so generously offers to those who are ready to receive them.
Kajedo Wanderer
FHT Land Steward
